


Cold and Shivering Warm

by QuokkaFoxtrot



Series: Dead Letter Chorus [7]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Canon Disabled Character, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 06:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuokkaFoxtrot/pseuds/QuokkaFoxtrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There are people in this neighbourhood who do not shovel their snow. There's an inch of compacted ice covering half the footpaths," Hermann says angrily, shaking a pointed finger in the general direction of the street. "It took me <i>an hour</i> just to walk from the bus stop."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold and Shivering Warm

**Author's Note:**

> Started writing this during the first round of Polar Vortex shenanigans when it took me an hour to make a twenty minute walk and I nearly slipped and fell on my ass five times. I figured it was the kind of thing that would make Hermann livid. It was supposed to be a short, sweet, fluffy-ish fic with tea and hugs but Hermann is an asshole who doesn't seek out comfort the same way Newt does. Then feelings and neuroses and pain and porn and 13k later… Oof.
> 
> Set after [TMWMATMWSIR](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1157240). (Apparently there is an acronym even uglier than (ITIL)WIDKAY. This is not how I wanted to outdo myself.)
> 
> Beta by Antheia. Mistakes by Me.
> 
> Title from Neko Case's 'Stinging Velvet' off _Blacklisted_.
> 
> Posting and Chronological orders for Dead Letter Chorus available in the notes [here](http://archiveofourown.org/series/66677).

Hermann unlocks the door to the back room of Kaiju Blue and enters, pushing it shut behind him as strong winds send flurries of snow whistling through the gap. He leans heavily against the wall, breathing harshly as he clutches his thigh. 

Snow had begun falling heavily an hour earlier, and the few inches that had fallen had been enough to impede his progress. The dusting across patches of ice had created hidden danger spots that had him tense and wary, sliding his cane forward and pressing gingerly to see if it would hold before stepping carefully forward. He had nearly slipped multiple times, catching himself and jarring his body, leaving his stomach lurching and uneasy, until all he wanted to do was sit down and wait for the cold to claim him.

He makes his way through the room slowly, aching and sore, as shivers run through his body, occasionally so violent that he has to stop and pause and breathe lest they make him fall. He opens one door, then the next, locking them behind him and shucking his back pack off to sit on the floor.

He can hear Newt upstairs at the sink and leans against the wall, closing his eyes and waiting for the water to turn off so he'll be heard.

"Newton?" He calls when silence reigns once more.

"Hey, you're back!" He hears Newton reply. "I was beginning to worry."

"Could you- could you come down here?" Hermann closes his eyes, breathing out through his nose as his jaw clenches; revealing any weakness is still difficult. He can't help the shame that comes over him, hot and tight in his chest. "Please."

"What's up?" Newt says, coming halfway down the stairs and peeking his head around the corner. "Holy shit, you look freezing. Take your coat off and come up; the kettle's just finished boiling."

"I can't- I don't- ... I don't think I can make it up the stairs." Hermann's head hangs down, refusing to look up and meet Newt's eye.

"Hey, it's okay," Newt says gently and Hermann can hear his mind working. "Take your coat off, I'll be right back."

Hermann hears Newt running back up the stairs and through the apartment as he leans his cane against the wall and pushes the fur-lined hood of his parka back, feeling drips and scatters of unmelted snow trickle down his neck. He starts to roughly yank at his buttons, trying to divert the helplessness he's feeling away from anger. The only problem is, he doesn't know where to put it.

He hears a thump at the turn of the stairs and then Newt making his way carefully down and setting something down. He feels Newt's hands pulling aside his jacket and loosening his scarf as he finishes unzipping. 

"Rough day?" Newt asks as he helps Hermann slide his jacket off his shoulders and hangs it on a coat hook by the door.

"There are people in this neighbourhood who do not shovel their snow. There's an inch of compacted ice covering half the footpaths," Hermann says angrily, shaking a pointed finger in the general direction of the street. "It took me _an hour_ just to walk from the bus stop."

"Jesus, why didn't you call a cab? Why didn't you call _me_? I would have come and got you." Newt's rubbing his hands up and down Hermann's upper arms to warm him up and even in his state of agitation, he has to admit that coming back to this level of attention is... nice.

"I was halfway here before I realised how bad it was," Hermann grumps. "And I couldn't make you come out without warning."

"Hermann," Newt admonishes with a thwap to his shoulder. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you, I am _fine_ if I have purpose and focus. _Especially_ if that purpose and focus is _you_."

"Yes, well... It's too late now," Hermann says, leaning back against the wall to relieve the pressure on his hip. "I- I don't think I'm going to be able to make it back to my place, either, at this rate." His lips twist a little bitterly; he doesn't know where he's going to spend the night and the realisation scares him.

"We'll work something out, okay? For now, let's just get you warmed up - you are _freezing_ , man." Newt brings his hands up to cup Hermann's face, fingers feeling like fire against his frigid cheeks as Hermann sniffs to stop his nose from dripping. "Can you sit?" Newt asks, gesturing to the stairs with his chin.

Hermann looks at the stairs and sighs. "I wouldn't be able to get back up."

"I'll still be here, if- if... you know." Newt shrugs and Hermann sighs and relents. 

He shuffles over to the stairs to lower himself down using the railing, keeping his bad leg as straight as possible as Newt watches, not touching, but keeping his arms out just in case. Hermann looks up at Newt tiredly and he can feel the tension that had been keeping him upright begin to drain from his legs and shoulders. He nods at Newt and lets his head hang down, listening as Newt trots up the stairs beside him, skipping over the steps that Hermann's resting on.

He feels a blanket being laid over his shoulders and then Newt's body pressed up against his side. He looks up and Newt's carefully picking up a mug of tea from the stairs and shifting around slowly so he doesn't spill any.

"Take your gloves off," he says, not looking away from the water level. 

If he weren't so sure it'd come out as a vicious barb, Hermann would point out that watching the liquid is the easiest way to spill something as the level doesn't remain constant. He tells himself that Newt already knows; he's just worried.

He doesn't say anything - just pulls his gloves off and accepts the tea with a tight smile, taking a sip as Newt wraps an arm around him and shifts closer. The tea slides down his throat and hits his core, slowing the shivers and allowing him to relax further. Newt rests his head on his shoulder and warmth radiates from his body like a small furnace. Hermann leans into it, content for the moment to take what Newt offers.

"How was your day? Other than, y'know, the getting home part?" Newt asks and Hermann feels a different kind of warmth fill him: home. He presses a kiss to the side of Newt's head, but doesn't say anything about it; probably won't until one night when the lights are off and they're lying in their bed, about to drift off to sleep on an average Wednesday night.

"Fowler continues to be an idiot of the highest order," he says instead. "Do you know he-" Hermann straightens suddenly and feels his hip throb painfully, he cuts himself off and closes his eyes, masking the hiss into a sip of tea. "You know, I don't want to talk about Fowler; he's a complete, ignorant... shit." 

"Now I kind of want to know what he did if it made _you_ swear." Newt rests his chin on Hermann's shoulder, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"It doesn't bear talking about," Hermann says and holds the mug of tea up to his lips, breathing on it to help warm up his face. He feels his nose run and sniffs before it can drip. "Do you have a tissue?"

"No, but you can use my sleeve if you want." Newt holds up his sweater covered arm and Hermann recoils.

"That's disgusting. Pa-"

"It's totally romantic!" Newt cuts Hermann off, indignant. "I'd deal with all your gross bodily fluids if I could make you feel better."

"That's... perversely touching," Hermann says with a slow blink. "But I am not going to wipe my nose on your arm. Pass me my bag, would you?"

"Fine, but I would totally sacrifice this sweater for your snotty face," Newt says as he turns to grab the bag and rummage through the front pockets for a tissue.

" _I_ bought you that sweater." Hermann glares, setting his mug down on the stairs.

"Yeah, and it's my _favorite_. You've seen how often I wear this thing," Newt says as he sits up and hands over a packet of travel tissues. "You could vomit on it and I wouldn't care." He pauses. "Okay, I'd kind of care because, well, vomit's super gross and it'd mean you were really sick, but it wouldn't be _the sweater_ I'd be worried about."

Hermann pauses in the middle of pulling out a tissue, face scrunching up with distaste. "Why do you _say_ these things?"

"Because I love you." Newt shrugs. "Blow your nose."

Hermann closes his eyes and shakes his head, trying to process Newt's special brand of romantic discourse. "Could you... turn away?" He asks, holding the tissue under his nose to stop it from dripping.

"Nope." Newt stares at him with a challenging expression.

"Newton, please. This isn't going to be pleasant." 

"Don't care. I'm going to sit here and stare at you while you snot into your hands so you can see _just how much_ I don't care about your icky grossness." Newt crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows, staring Hermann down.

Hermann looks at Newt and he knows that this is a battle he's not going to win. He sighs and turns his head away, looking towards the wall. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Newt shift around and lean out and he pulls a face behind the tissue. He closes his eyes, brow furrowed in disgust and moderate annoyance, and blows with force, feeling the snot bubble out. He wipes his nostril and looks at Newt who just shrugs, a blank expression on his face.

"Not bothered," he says, gesturing to the tissue with his elbow. "Go again."

"Really, Newton," Hermann admonishes, discomfort levels still as high as they were before he blew. "You've made your point. You can stop looking now."

"Not gonna happen."

Hermann pauses, lowering the tissue to his lap and leaning away slightly. "Is this a... a... _sexual_ thing?" he asks, hoping the answer isn't in the affirmative.

"Ew, no. Also, _ew_. Where do you get this stuff?" he says, slapping Hermann's shoulder lightly. "I just... wanted you to know that it doesn't matter what state you're in, I'm still gonna love you." Newt turns on the stair and rests his chin on his hands, not looking at Hermann. "You can go. I won't watch."

Hermann finishes blowing his nose and tucks the tissue into his blazer pocket, before wiping his hands off on his trousers and reaching over to squeeze Newt's knee. "It's not that I don't appreciate the sentiment," he says as Newt looks up. "It's just that sometimes you tell me in the oddest ways."

"I took it a little too far, didn't I?" Newt asks, lips twisting apologetically.

"Just a touch." Hermann squeezes again. "I still love you, though."

"In spite of it." Newt snorts.

"Because of it."

Newt shakes his head, looking down with a small smile before he turns to look at Hermann. "You feeling any better now?"

Hermann's hand slides off Newt's knee and into his lap. The tea and conversation had been distracting, but he's still stiff and sore and now he's anticipating the pain that will flare once he starts moving again. He picks up his tea and takes a sip, avoiding Newt's eyes.

"I'm much warmer," he says and raises his mug once more; the tea bag's been in the water too long and it's become bitter and astringent, tightening his mouth and coating his tongue.

"Stairs still out of the question?"

Hermann continues to avert his gaze, staring down at his knees, and he knows he needs to start moving; needs to work out where he can go - he can't stay in Newt's stairwell - but the choices are witheringly few and the uncertainty brings his mind to a halt. He closes his eyes and nods silently.

"So, the way I see it, you have three options," Newt says quietly, turning on the stair. "Just tell me to shut up if I'm overstepping..." Newt pauses to give Hermann time to respond and, when he doesn't, continues. "So, I could walk you home. You'll get cold again and I have no idea what the sidewalks are like between here and your place, so who knows how long it could take. But, you'd be able to get to your apartment and into bed without much trouble once we got there, so, there's that." 

Hermann nods slowly. It's probably his best option right now; the pain and the cold will make him slow, but with Newt with him, he might get back to his apartment within... thirty, forty-five minutes. At best. He hangs his head. It's three blocks; it shouldn't be so daunting.

"Or... I could bring down, like, cushions and blankets and things and set up a bed for you in the shop. I can turn the heat up in there and stuff. You'd have to get up before seven, though, and, y'know, sleep under those huge windows. It probably wouldn't be very comfortable... but, it's something I can do if you don't like options one or three."

"What..." Hermann takes a deep breath, willing his throat to stop tightening. "What is option number three?"

"Um... So, I know-... I don't want- ... It's- Just... Hear me out, okay?" 

Hermann steels himself - from Newt's stammering, he can tell that he's not going to like this suggestion in the slightest. "What is it, Newton?" He asks tiredly. 

"I could... carry you? Not in, like, a romantic sweep-you-off-your-feet kind of way. Or infantilising. Not- No. I'm not trying to- It'd just be a straight-forward, utilitarian... piggy-back. Sort of. It'd be ten minutes, max. Then you'd be upstairs and you could go to bed and... Shit, no, I know. It's a dumb idea. Do you want me to walk you home? Let me get my jacket." Newt stands up and Hermann raises a hand to stay him.

"Newton," he says quietly even though his heart is pounding. "Could I... would you give me a moment?"

"Sure, sure, of course." Newt shoves his hands into his pockets and stares at the ground.

Hermann clears his throat and Newt looks up at him, startled.

"Oh, do you want me to- I'll just go up- If you n- Call me when you're... done? Uh. I'm- Going." Newt steps carefully past Hermann and he can hear him muttering to himself as he ascends the stairs and starts to pace in the apartment above.

Hermann relaxes as much as he can. His arm is still tense from the death grip he had on his cane the entire trip back from the bus stop; he can feel it in the side of his neck and the way his thigh muscles twitch and shiver. His stomach still roils from the adrenalin spikes of each misstep and near fall; the tea had helped some, but now it's back with a vengeance as he considers the enormity of what he's about to do.

He knows he's going to ask Newt to... carry him. He's too tired and sore to walk back to his apartment, even with Newt by his side, and the prospect of spending the night in the cafe fills him with dread - people will _see_ him sleeping down there; they will _know_ it's because he's... incapable. 

He just needs time to convince himself. 

He leans to drop his head into his hands and feels his hip protest, a sharp stabbing pain where the angle and the pressure are all wrong and he has to smother his cry in his hand. He presses down hard on his lips as he forces himself to breathe through his nose, harsh and hard, and it distracts him from the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. 

He straightens slowly until his back touches the next step up and feels the pain lessen to a dull roar as the pressure decreases. He wipes his hand down his face, panting slightly, pushes the blanket off his shoulder and reaches for the railing with both hands, putting all his weight on his good leg as he pulls himself up, straightening as he adjusts his hands and pushes himself the rest of the way. His arms are burning with the effort and he should have just waited for Newt, but there's only so many indignities he can suffer in one night.

He's breathing hard, pressing his forehead into the cool brick of the wall, and he has a brief, wild fantasy of taking his coat and bag and walking out; hiding in his apartment until Newt stopped calling and knocking and the pain in his chest felt as normal as the pain in his hip. 

He doesn't. 

He turns his head to the side, feels his fingers curling into the mortar and speaks.

"Newt?" He calls and his back feels tight and he presses his fingers harder into the stonework if only so the pain will distract him. He hears footsteps and then Newt's peeking around the corner.

"Yes, Hermann?" He asks gingerly and Hermann has to close his eyes against the concern in his tone.

"Would you-... would you come down?" He asks and he can hear Newt move and then there's a tentative hand resting on his shoulder.

"Should I get my coat?" 

"No." 

"Okay. I'll go grab the cushions off the couch. I should have another blanket somewhere, so you can have the down quilt from the bed."

Hermann feels his heart twist at the fact that Newt is certain that Hermann would rather endure pain and unfavourable conditions rather than be helped up the stairs.

"No," he says and his voice is a rasp, rough and low from a throat tight and straining.

"You-... You want me to... carry you?" Newt sounds shocked; Hermann can feel it in the way Newt's fingers tense on his shoulder.

He closes his eyes, nodding slowly and feeling the grate of brick against his temple. 

"Okay... Okay, well-"

"I would not ask if-... if it were not necessary. I do not wish to... encumber you with my needs." Hermann says, focussing on his breathing and preparing to push away from the wall, instead he feels Newt's arms snake around his waist and Newt's forehead pressed into his back.

" _Hermann_ ," Newt says, full of feeling. "It's not- _You're_ not-" he breaks off with a frustrated sigh, tightening his hold on Hermann and shaking his head. "Some-... Sometimes I can't-... I can't get off the couch. Is that, I mean... Does that feel... cumbersome to you?"

Hermann can hear the worry in Newt's voice, as if he isn't sure that Hermann won't say 'yes'. Hermann feels his throat get a little tighter and wonders if this is how Newt feels now, but he can't get past the overwhelming feeling that he cannot and should not ask for or accept help.

"No. You just need time," Hermann says and he knows he's being lead, knows where he's being lead, but he's too tired to try and argue when what he wants is for something to make this feel easier and hurt less.

"Right. You support me." Newt says and Hermann can hear the relief in his voice and wishes the doubt had never been there in the first place. "And I support you. Sometimes that means letting you hold my arm so you're more stable, and... sometimes it means carrying you when it hurts too much to move. I do it because I love you. It's not a trial."

Hermann nods and breathes and tries to overcome the apprehension that has him pressed against the wall like a limpet. He takes comfort in Newt's arms wrapped around him, the steady solid warmth that soothes the ache in his chest. When he feels like he can move - like he can face Newt and not cry - he presses his hand flat against the wall and turns in Newt's arms.

"I'm sorry I'm so..."

"Hermann, it's okay," Newt says and kisses him softly. "This is well beyond bringing you tea. It's hard and you need time to adjust. I get that. I honestly thought, y'know, I'd float the idea and then walk you home. Then, next time this happens, it wouldn't be so hard to accept. But, we're here now and we can take as long as you need. Or even not do it at all."

Hermann closes his eyes; his throat is still tight and he's aching all over from the tension, but he stands straight, jaw jutting out in determination as he swallows thickly and nods. "Please," he says as he gestures to the stairs and he knows he sounds strained and Newt's soft eyes and warm arms just make it the slightest bit harder to bear.

"Okay," Newt says with an encouraging smile and then looks down. "Uh, so, I know you're really putting yourself out there right now, but, uh. Can I get your boots? It's just, you'll be lighter, and, uh, they won't drag you down as much and... you won't track mud through the place." Newt cringes a little at the last but Hermann just nods silently and leans back against the wall.

He watches as Newt kneels, grabs the dirty cloth that lives in the corner, and unties both and then gently lifts his leg to tug the boot off muttering _sorry, sorry_ and set it to the side. He wipes the floor with the cloth before guiding Hermann's sock-clad foot back to the ground. He sits up straighter as he moves to the other boot, letting Hermann spread his weight between the wall and Newt's shoulders as he leans on his bad leg. Newt repeats the actions with the second boot and waits until Hermann gives him the go ahead before standing up.

Newt rests his hands on Hermann's ribcage and kisses him, murmuring _thank you_ as though being allowed to remove Hermann's boots was some kind of gift. He smiles softly as he steps away and stands on the first step facing up the stairs, kicking the blanket to the side. "So, I think the easiest and least painful way to do this is if you stand behind me and put your arms over my shoulders. Unless... is there a better way?" 

Hermann walks slowly over and, steadying himself on Newt, leans his cane against the wall. "This... will work." Hermann rests his hands on Newt's shoulders, presses his face into the back of Newt's neck, and tries to work himself up to letting someone else take his weight.

"It's okay," Newt says quietly. "Take your time." He slides his hands over Hermann's and holds them lightly. "Whenever you're ready, just wrap your arms around and hold on. Just, try not to choke me. I'm going to go slowly so I don't jostle you, and then, when we get to the turn, I'm going to set you down to give your arms a break and you can tell me if anything needs to change before we go the rest of the way. Does that sound okay to you?"

Newt's voice is low and comforting and it helps; to know what's coming, that Newt has considered this and is not just winging it. It allows him to relax; to put his small reserve of faith and trust into Newt, and to slide his hands over Newt's shoulders. He clasps his forearms in his hands over Newt's chest and presses up against Newt's back.

"You good?" 

Hermann nods against Newt's neck, murmurs an affirmative and takes a deep breath.

"Whenever you're ready, put your weight on your arms, bend your knees a little and I'll start going," Newt says, patting him on the wrist.

Hermann nods again - he's come this far. Slowly, he shifts his weight until he's leaning heavily on Newt and he doesn't doubt that the man can lift him but he's still nervous. He bends the knee of his bad leg first and follows with the good, closing his eyes as he lets Newt take it all on his shoulders.

The ascent is slow and mostly smooth with Newt leaning forward slightly, putting all his weight on one foot and pushing up until he can bring the other beside it. His hands grasp Hermann's wrists on his chest to hold him in place, but Hermann is holding on tight with his upper arms and focussing on not letting himself slide back as a means to distract himself. A few minutes later and they're at the turn of the stairs and Newt makes his way evenly across the space and onto the first step of the next flight.

"How you doing?" Newt asks, rubbing his hands over Hermann's wrists as he lowers his good foot to the floor and takes a breather.

"I am... okay," Hermann says though his arms are burning and he feels he is at his limit. "We should continue."

"Okay, if you're sure... So, when we get to the top, I'm going to take a few steps in and to the side so you're near the wall and don't, y'know, fall back down the stairs. Sound good?" Newt asks, looking over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

Hermann nods and adjusts his grip on Newt's shoulders, knuckles turning white and bones moving beneath his fingers as he tightens his upper arms and raises his feet from the floor once more.

The second leg of the journey is just as smooth and even as the first, though, by the last few steps, Hermann can feel the tremors running through Newt's shoulders as he tries to maintain it. True to his word, he takes a few steps in and to the side and waits patiently as Hermann lowers his legs and straightens, reaching a hand out to the wall for support.

Newt turns and watches him with a careful eye until he's sure Hermann won't fall, and steps away. "I'll just go grab your cane. Do you want your bag, too?"

"Please." Hermann nods and swallows and now that he's upstairs and safe he feels guilty for making such a big fuss of it.

"Be right back," Newt says and heads towards the stairs.

"Newton," Hermann says quietly, reaching out to grasp Newt's hand as he passes. "I'm sorry. I love you. I- I _trust_ you... I am trying."

"I know," Newt says with a small smile, squeezing Hermann's hand and turning to wrap an arm around his waist. He stretches up to kiss Hermann and pulls back to regard him seriously. "It's not easy... I know it seems like I just run at the mouth and tell you every little thing that's on my mind, but... this is more than _six years_ of therapy. I've had to _learn_ to think about other people, and, well, I think about _you_ a _lot_. Just in general." Newt gives Hermann a smile and kisses him again. "So... What I'm trying to say is, it's a _conscious_ decision to tell you, almost every time, because I know you're not going to just _know_ what I'm feeling and... I want us to work. I'm not great at it yet, but... I'm trying, too. For you." He squeezes Hermann around the middle in reassurance. "You're not there. Maybe you never will be. But every time you let me help you - every time you let me _take care_ of you - it... it means the world to me, man."

"I wish I had it in me to do more. I _want_ to. I-"

"Hermann, no. You don't have to force it." He reaches up to press a kiss to Hermann's cheek and looks him in the eye. "What you give me, it's enough. I- I know you wouldn't let anyone else do these things, but you let _me_. And, every time, I know... it's because you love me, too." Newt smiles up at Hermann but something slips into his eyes and the smile slides off his face, replaced by a look of dawning horror. "Unless- Am I bullying you into this? I don't- You don't feel bullied, do you? I don't want to force you into doing anything. You can stop. I don't need- You don't have to- I mean, this is about you and if you're not comfortable then I'm being pretty shitty and-"

"Newton!" Hermann says, perhaps more sharply than he intended. He closes his eyes at the look of guilt-tinged fear in Newt's eyes and takes a deep breath, raising his hand to squeeze Newt's shoulder as he collects himself. "Newton." He repeats and tries to look at Newt seriously even as the pain throbs in his hip; he'll deal with that soon enough, he just needs to not let it cloud his judgement right now. "I do not feel 'bullied'. It is a part of my life. I try to keep the extent of it to myself because... I do not want you to worry. I- I do not want to be a burden to you."

"Hermann, you could never be a b-"

"Don't. I do not want to make a liar of you." Hermann looks away; he knows he's said too much. He can see the protest forming on Newt's lips and hastens to continue. "I am trying... because it is no longer _my_ life. My... It... We are both..." Hermann stops, frustrated, and pinches the bridge of his nose before looking down at Newt solemnly. "What I mean to say is... It is _our_ life. In order to- to strengthen _us_ , I have to allow _myself_ to be... we-"

"Open to the possibility of getting hurt." Newt cuts him off, hugging him fiercely. "You're so much stronger than anyone gives you credit for, Hermann. You're not weak." 

Hermann rests his forehead against Newt's, neither confirming nor denying. He wants to stay here, wrapped in Newt's comforting warmth; he wants to not have a physical demand that could take him away from this. He wants to believe Newt's staunch reassurances. "I don't want to spoil this moment, but-"

"You want to go to bed?" 

"No, I-... Would you... start the bath running?" Even after the conversation they just had, he still feels nauseous and vulnerable asking. 

"Of course," Newt says as he pulls away. "I'll just go get your things." Newt disappears down the stairs and Hermann leans against the wall, stretching out his arms and shoulders as he stares at the ceiling. 

Newt reappears moments later and hands Hermann his cane without fanfare, puts his bag on the dining table, and disappears into the bathroom. 

Hermann hears the water start in the bathroom as he's wrapping his hand around the grip of the cane, testing it on the floor to see if his arm can take the strain. He makes his way to the table and hooks his cane onto it, groaning quietly as he pulls his blazer off and folds it over the back of the chair. He undoes a few buttons and takes up the cane once more to continue his journey. 

He finds Newt kneeling at the end of the bath with one hand under the stream, the other holding a bottle he's reading intently.

"I've got bubble bath here; smells kind of like fruit. Do you want bubbles?" Newt looks over and holds the bottle out questioningly.

"I do not want bubbles, thank you," Hermann says as he hangs his cane from the doorknob and leans against the wall to finish undoing his buttons.

"Sometimes you need bubbles," Newt says with a shrug, setting the bottle on the counter. He looks up at Hermann and gestures to the side. "There's a chair right there if you want to sit."

"If I bend at the middle again before I get into the bath, I won't unbend," Hermann says and grimaces as he pulls his shirt off his shoulders and tosses it on said chair. He undoes his belt and trousers and pushes them down until they can fall about his ankles and he can step out of them. He's standing there, leaning against the wall, naked but for his socks and he sighs.

"You want me to- I got this," Newt says as he kneels before Hermann once more and as he did with the boots, he does again with the socks. He stands and Hermann is feeling ridiculous at the fact that he can't even manage his own socks when Newt kisses him. "No judgement. Just love." He feels Newt say against his lips and his chest tightens and he can't speak.

He moves to stand by the bath and Newt's right there beside him.

"So, uh, I put the slip mat from the shower in the tub and I'm going to install some handrails, but, uh, you're going to have to let me help you in this time. Unless- unless you can do it your- No, of course you can do it yourself. I'll just go." Newt steps away and is still talking as he turns to the door and Hermann has to reach out to stop him.

"Newton," he says and his voice feels tight and strained but he's looked at the bath and there's too many opportunities for him to injure himself - the condensation on the tiled walls, the muscle fatigue that's weighing him down, his own body failing him... "Please. I- I need... help."

"What? Oh, yeah, sure. How, uh, how do you want to do this? How do you want me?" Newt's back by his side in a flash, hovering; arms out, but not touching. 

"Stand over- over here." Hermann gestures to the space in front of him and puts his hands on Newt's shoulders when he complies. Leaning against Newt, he shifts his weight to his bad leg, biting his lip at the pulsing that intensifies with the pressure, and raises his other leg until it passes the rim of the bath and he finds purchase on the slip mat. The water feels almost too hot for his foot, but he knows it'll be perfect for the tension in his muscles and the throbbing in his hip. He follows with his other foot and steadies himself against the wall. 

"Put your- put your arm around me." Hermann wraps an arm around Newt's shoulder and presses his hand against the tile. "Now lower me - _slowly_ ," he says and lets Newt take his weight and lower him back into the water. He keeps his leg as straight as possible and the motion is jerky as he adjusts his hand on the wall - he can't yet trust that Newt won't drop him. The pain in his hip flares as he feels the water rising along his calves and up over his knees until it covers his hip and he lets out a sigh of relief as Newt lays him gently against the end of the bath. He lets his arms slip under the water and feels heat working on his tired and strained muscles. He smiles and opens his eyes to see Newt standing and staring at him with a small smile.

"Your sleeve," he says, not quite sure how to interpret the look.

"It's just a little water." Newt shrugs and starts pulling the sweater off, droplets flying as he struggles to get the sodden wool off his arm. He manages to get it off and throws it in the sink. "Let me just wring this out and I'll be out of your hair."

"You don't have to go," Hermann murmurs, averting his eyes to the water and watching his hands move under the surface.

"Really?" Newt asks and Hermann glances up in time to see Newt's head turn suddenly and stare at him. "I can stay?"

Hermann nods and Newt's smile is blinding. He quickly finishes up with the sweater, tosses it in the hamper, and pulls the chair over to sit beside the bath. 

Hermann raises a hand and rests it on the edge of the bath, palm up. "Tell me about your day," he says, eyes drifting closed as Newt slides his hand into Hermann's. 

"Uh, well, nothing huge happened. Chuck still makes better coffee than me, but I'm actually kinda cool with that, y'know? It means I've still got shit to learn. I _will_ discover his secrets. " Newt says, playing with Hermann's hand. "Uh, Mako's getting itchy feet again so we're looking into another trip. I think she just wants see more of Africa, and, hey, I don't really blame her."

Hermann smiles but Newt's jostling his arm and it's undoing all the good the brief dip in the hot water did. "Will you get a washcloth?" He asks, slipping his hand back into the water as Newt lets go and turns to grab it from the shower. 

"Here you go," Newt says, holding it out as he turns back around. 

Hermann raises an eyebrow at him; he wants Newt's hands occupied - doesn't want Newt to feel bad about accidentally hurting him, and he's too tired to do it himself.

"You- you want _me_ to?" Newt asks, staring at Hermann in disbelief. 

Hermann just nods and closes his eyes, slipping down a little further into the water. He doesn't hear Newt's response, but hears the thump of his knees on the bathmat and then the cloth's being rubbed slowly over his chest and down his arms.

"Mako's coming over for dinner tomorrow, by the way. She wants to start planning, so we'll be working after." Newt runs the cloth over Hermann's body as he talks, down to his stomach and up his side, dipping into his arm pit and down his arm to his fingertips.

"Do you want me to go to my apartment tomorrow?" Hermann asks quietly, feeling a slight twinge in his chest; he spends most nights here, now - can't remember the last time he went there after work if it wasn't late or he wasn't in pain.

"No. Well, not unless you want to. I was just letting you know what was happening. Do you not want to come here? I mean, you don't have to come over. It's not- I don't- Are you trying to tell me something?" Newt's hand stops moving and Hermann can hear his breathing speed up. He finds Newt's hand under the water and squeezes.

"I thought you might need the quiet to work," Hermann says, running his fingers up Newt's wrist soothingly.

"Because you're known for being noisy. Idiot." Newt's hand resumes its movement and his breath slows to normal. "I figured we'd all have dinner together then you'd work and we'd work. Then she'd go home and I'd suck your brains out through your dick." Newt ghosts the cloth over Hermann's hip - barely touching - and then down his leg.

"That plan is not without merit." Hermann smiles as Newt washes between his toes and moves up the other leg with a gentler touch. Newt snickers and rubs the cloth over Hermann's stomach before dragging it down to cup his balls and over his flaccid penis. The touch is uniform and not designed to arouse, but Hermann finds his breath catching in his throat just the same. "Don't stop," he whispers as Newt shows signs of moving to another part of his body.

"You want me to... now?" Newt stops moving and Hermann should have known that Newt would stop moving but instead of complaining he just nods and presses his palms into the curve of the bathtub, holding himself still as Newt wraps his fingers around him and pulls him to fullness. 

Water is never a very good lubricant and the washcloth drags against his skin but he can feel the tension in his limbs turning to potential and lets out a shaky breath. Newt discards the washcloth - it sinks to lay over Hermann's thigh - and trails his fingers over Hermann's balls, cupping and rubbing them gently before running up his shaft and gripping him firmly. He moves his hand slowly, a repetitive push and pull against the resistance of the water and Hermann tries not to move his hips. He's breathing shallowly through his mouth as his head rolls to the side and he wants to reach up and pull Newt to him but all he can manage is a low _kiss me_.

Hermann feels the water sloshing as Newt changes positions and then his hand's pressed against the juncture of his shoulder and neck, digging his fingers into the hard, tight muscle, and his lips are soft and gentle against his own. He moans into Newt's mouth at the pleasure-pain that skitters under his skin away from his shoulder as he tilts his head to give Newt's fingers better access. 

He can feel the pressure begin to build low in his balls, tightening his thighs and abdomen, and he thought it would have taken longer with the strain and stress of the day but his body is yearning for relief and his pain fades into background noise. Newt swipes his thumb over the head and picks up speed and Hermann can feel the water starting to splash over onto the floor. He breaks away from the kiss to breathe and feels Newt nosing at his cheek, muttering dirtily in his ear _your dick fits so good in my hand, wanna feel you come, wanna see you lose it_. 

Lips are pressing just behind Hermann's jaw near his ear and he feels his heart stutter and his body shudder and then he's shooting into the water and his arms are moving up to hold Newt, to feel his fingers curl into the material of his t-shirt, to feel him solid and real under his hands and anchor him as he comes back down.

His body feels relaxed, lighter; there's still tension and the distant thrum of pain waiting to roar back to life, but for the moment he feels good.

"Love you," Hermann says into the curve of Newt's jaw dragging his lips across his cheek until he can kiss him breathlessly. 

"You're just saying that because I got you off," Newt says with a smirk against Hermann's lips.

Hermann forces his fingers to release from the grip they still have on Newt's tee and slides his hand up to cup Newt's jaw, letting his thumb stroke over Newt's cheek until he has breath enough to speak. "There are times when I love you more, but the feeling is not always so wholly encompassing."

"Even when you're in pain and stewing in your own filth, you're still eloquent as shit," Newt says, smirk softening into a genuine smile.

"Not as much pain. Not anymore." Hermann says and draws Newt down to kiss him again.

"Mmm, you feeling good?" Newt asks.

"Much better," Hermann says and lets his arms slip back into the welcoming heat of the water. "Thank you."

"Any time, Hermann. Any time." Newt presses one last kiss to Hermann's lips and sits back, kneeling beside the tub with his hand trailing in the water.

"Your shirt's saturated," Hermann says, looking down at the way the tee sticks to his skin in patches revealing bright swathes of colour over his shoulders and chest.

"It's not the only part of me that's wet," Newt says with a leer as he pulls the shirt over his head and tosses it into the hamper with his sweater.

Hermann bites his lip and looks down, ashamed; he's feeling better, but his arms are still sore and he doesn't have the strength to reciprocate. "Sorry, I- ah-"

"Joking, Hermann," Newt says gently. "Normal physiological response to seeing my hot boyfriend get off. It'll settle down. Right now, we're having a You Day. God knows we've probably got a lot of Me Days coming. Here's hoping we never overl- Nope. Not saying it. Not gonna jinx us. We're good. We're cool. Everything's okay. Moving on. New topic."

"It's okay, Newton. Breathe." Hermann says and raises an arm out of the bath to squeeze Newt's shoulder. When Newt looks at him and nods, he loosens his grip and lets his fingers trail across the tattoos on Newt's chest; he knows they're significant, he's just not sure why. "Are you ever going to tell me about these?" He asks as his finger follows a line down one of the necks of a three-headed dragon. 

Newt takes Hermann's hand in his own, folding his finger back into his palm and kissing his knuckles apologetically. "Maybe one day. Not- not today."

"Whenever you're ready," Hermann says and turns his hand in Newt's to give it a squeeze.

"Thanks," Newt says with a quirk of his lips and takes a deep breath before looking at Hermann with a mostly real smile. "You want to wallow in your mess for a while longer, or are you ready to get out?"

"I don't _want_ to wallow in it, but I'm going to," Hermann says with a sniff, sinking a little further into the tub.

"Okay, well, you do that. I'm going to go heat up dinner. You want to eat at the table, or should I bring it to you in bed?"

Hermann's mouth twists in apology. "I'm sorry, Newton. I'm afraid I don't have much of an appetite."

"S'okay, I was just warming up some of the soup I made a while back. No big." Newt says with a shrug. "So, _I'll_ go eat and put some crackers or something on the nightstand in case you wake up hungry. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect." Hermann smiles as Newt sets his hand back down in the water and leans over to kiss the top of his head. "You're too good to me."

"I have my moments," Newt says with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Call me when you're ready to get out, yeah?" Newt says as he pushes himself up off his knees and stands.

Hermann nods and watches Newt leave his peripheral vision before letting the water do its work.

"No drowning." Newt calls over his shoulder as he leaves the room. "I don't want to have to explain to the cops why my boyfriend's dead in a bathtub full of semen." 

Hermann snorts into the water and closes his eyes.

He lets his mind drift. He won't deny that he feels much better now, or that the conversations with Newt have loosened some of the knots tying him up and holding him back, but there's still tension and a complex weave of cause and effect running through his mind and tangling all his emotional responses. He wants to relax. He wants to give in and know that Newt won't overstep; to know that Newt will always be thinking of him and trying to cover every base. He wants that comfort, wants to be able to accept it without reservation. He wants to be able to shake the feeling that he is too much and not enough, and that the end is inevitable.

As the water turns tepid and his fingers prune, he remembers what she said - he could never forget - and tries to live by it: if he wants to keep it, he must fight for it. He has to fight himself and overcome the knowledge that, historically, he hasn't been enough. He has to give himself over and hope that Newt won't be the blow that shatters the last of his hope.

He opens his eyes and slowly pulls himself into a sitting position, his limbs feel relaxed and noodly and the pain in his hip reduced to a sullen throb that he knows will change once he starts to move. Carefully pulling himself into a sitting position, he focuses on his breathing and forces himself to call Newt into the room.

"You ready to get out?" Newt asks as he pops his head in through the door wearing a new t-shirt and Hermann nods.

Getting out will be easier than getting in; the pain has reduced enough that he can bend enough to push himself upright, but without a railing getting out of the tub will be difficult.

"How do you want me?" Newt asks as he grabs Hermann's towel from the rack and throws it over his shoulder before standing beside the tub. 

"I can get up, I just won't be able to get out easily," Hermann says as he places his hands on the rim of the bath and pushes until his torso is hanging out of the water. Situating his stronger leg on the slip mat, he puts his weight on it until he can rise up straight and turn slightly to the side to face Newt. He gestures for Newt to step forward and places his hands on Newt's shoulders, leaning forward until he can raise his good leg and place it on the bathmat. He's following with his other leg when he underestimates the height of the rim and bumps his shin, jarring his hip and sending him curling into Newt's body with a hiss of pain.

"Shit, are you okay? Hermann? I've got you. You're okay. Right, Hermann? You're okay? I've got you," Newt babbles, one arm wrapped tightly around Hermann, the other stroking up and down his shoulder as he tries to look down at Hermann's leg to see what happened. 

Hermann's got his face pressed into the juncture of Newt's neck as he breathes harshly, feeling his shin throbbing in time with the throb in his hip and the adrenalin spike setting his stomach to churning. When the pain recedes enough that he can think clearly, he listens to Newt's continued muttering and realises it's true; Newt _does_ have him; he _is_ okay. He raises his head and presses his forehead against Newt's.

"It was just my shin. I'm okay. I'm okay." He kisses Newt's cheek reassuringly as he feels Newt's arm stop rubbing his shoulder and pull him in close.

"Shit. Fuck. Thank- I thought I'd fucked everything up. Fuck. I mean, I'm glad you're okay. But, shit."

"Newt, Newton," Hermann says, prising his hand off Newt's shoulder to stroke his neck and stop the babble. "Why would you think you'd... messed everything up?"

"Are you kidding me?" Newt asks, pulling back in disbelief. "The first time you ask me for this kind of help and you get hurt? I never would have forgiven myself. You never would have asked again. I would have ruined everything."

"I'm sorry. I know I'm not the most... emotionally articulate of men, but I need you to know; I _want_ you to know: I cherish everything you give to me. I value our time together. This relationship is precious to me. _You_ are precious to me. You are precious. I'm sorry if I ever gave you reason to doubt it."

Newt stares at Hermann with wide eyes before leaning in and kissing him softly. "I appreciate that. I really do. And the same goes for me. Probably with more emphatic swearing, but, you get the gist. I just... it doesn't really relate to what I said. What brought this on?"

Newt's staring at him curiously and Hermann averts his eyes, swallows uncomfortably. "I know that I need to... _tell_ you these things. I am trying to follow your lead. I- I do not want to give you cause to think I feel anything other than I do." Hermann feels his chest tighten, throat constrict, and his voice drops to a whisper. "I don't want you to leave me."

"Why would you think that I'd- Holy shit." Newt stares at Hermann with wide, sympathetic eyes, holding him even tighter. "It happened to you, didn't it? Someone left you because of that? Because you didn't tell them they were your sun and stars and, I don't know, fucking air?"

Hermann doesn't respond, continues looking away until Newt kisses the side of his head. 

"They were a _douchebag_ ," Newt says emphatically. "Okay, I can't know that. Maybe you were a douchebag. Not helping. Shit. Fuck. Uh, maybe you've changed? Maybe you're just trying harder this time? I don't know. But I can tell you this for sure: I've never dated a man more 'emotionally articulate' than you. Hell, I've never dated a woman more emotionally articulate than- That's wrong. You're not a woman. Fuck. Ugh. I mean, I've never dated _anyone_ who gave me more than you. Gives me more than you. Tenses are hard, fuck this." Newt brings a hand around to tilt Hermann's chin until he can look him in the eye. "You give me so much I almost always know where I stand with you. Even though my brain gets the better of me a lot of the time. You _listen_ to me. When I get stressed out and I can't stop talking, you _listen_ and you _answer_ and most of the time you can cut straight to what's fucking with me and reassure me and _that_ means so much, you can't even know. I don't get that from people very often and it's something you just _do_.

"It's the way you stroke my neck and hold my hand and hug me and pull me back down into bed, half asleep and kiss me even though we've both got _awful_ morning breath and I have to get to work. And it's not even about the sex - which is still mind-blowing, don't get me wrong - it's you, Hermann. It's you letting me work on your research with you. It's you coming over here every night even though I've got those stupid stairs and they hurt you and you don't know it but I've already started looking into where I can put an elevator. Shut up. I'm doing it. Because it's _you_.

"I thought I was saying all that with 'I love you', but... maybe 'I love you' isn't enough?" Newt finally pauses for breath and pulls back to look Hermann in the eye seriously. "I value you, Hermann. I value _us_. You make me so fucking happy I feel like I'm going to explode sometimes. Sure, we fuck up and we fight, but... we get through it. Together. It's like we're, y'know, grown ups; mature and rational and completely invested in making this shit work. And we will. Because you're going to hold my hand and I'm going to make you biscotti whenever you want and you're going to push me down on the couch and make out with me when you've got too much work to do and I'm going to tuck you into bed and keep you safe and warm and we'll do a million other things that all add up. _That_ is what I mean when I say 'I love you', okay?

"So, tell me if you want. Tell me time and time again if it's what you need to do. But you don't have to, because you show me. Every d- Have we had this conversation before? I've definitely said that last part to you." Newt cuts himself off with a confused frown and Hermann looks down with a blush, ashamed.

"It was a different context," Hermann mumbles and feels Newt turning his head to face him again.

"It all still applies. Even more now." Newt kisses him and Hermann shivers. "Shit, man. You got me speechifying while you're all naked and wet. Here. Can you stand?" 

Newt keeps Hermann steady as he steps away and braces an arm against the wall and then Newt's wrapping the towel around his shoulders and rubbing him down. 

"I can do it, Newton," Hermann says as he stays Newt's hands and takes the towel to finish drying himself off.

"Shit, sorry. Got all Mother Hen there for a second," Newt says with a chastened grin as he shoves his hands into his pockets and watches Hermann finish up. "So, here's an idea - and we're both probably going to fail at this, but that's cool - how about... how about we just focus on us - you and me - and what we want, and try not to think about all the shitty things people have said to us because we weren't what they wanted? Does that sound- is that something we could maybe try?"

Hermann finishes drying off and wraps the towel around his waist, looking at the floor as he processes Newt's idea. "I can't promise anything..."

"Well, no. For one, you don't make promises - which is something I love about you, don't get me wrong." Newt puts his hands on Hermann's ribcage and stretches up to give him a quick reassuring peck on the cheek. "For another, I don't expect either of us to just be all 'Nope, not thinking about that douchecanoe ever again'. That shit's hard to let go. I just- I mean, I'm fine with you outright asking me stuff. Emotional, logistical, sexual, whatever. Especially the sexual stuff. You should totally ask me to do lots of sex stuff. With you. To you. _For_ you." Newt gives Hermann a mischievous grin and waggles his eyebrows as Hermann smiles in spite of himself and huffs out a laugh.

"I'll try." 

"Good. So, we're cool now, right? You're not worried I'm going to leave you because you didn't tell me I'm the hot water in your tea, or something, right? I mean, I'm not gonna shut you down if you do, I just prefer it if you do it because _you_ want to, not because you feel obligated or something."

"You are not the hot water in my tea," Hermann says, placing a hand on Newt's shoulder and sliding it up to cup his neck. "You are the string that agitates me into action and holds me up." Hermann kisses Newt softly, smiling into it as Newt slowly closes his eyes and lets out a small, happy noise. 

"I want you to appreciate how mature I am," Newt says, eyes still closed, as Hermann pulls back. "I'm just going all melty inside instead of making a joke about you being a teabag."

"You wanted me to wipe my nose on your sleeve earlier, I'm still not sure maturity applies," Hermann says, stroking the nape of Newt's neck with his thumb.

"I stand by my argument," Newt says as his eyes drift open. " _I'm_ still not sure how you thought I was going to leave you for not showering me with praise after _that_. Snot, puke, shit, whatever else your oh-so-sexy but oh-so-human body can throw at me, I'm staying. That stuffs way grosser than talking about... _feelings_ and whatever."

"I suppose you're right," Hermann says feeling a little bit ashamed that he hadn't caught on to that sooner.

"You'd... you'd do the same for me, though, right?" Newt says and there's a note of uncertainty in his voice that makes Hermann feel guilty.

"I'd perhaps not offer you my sleeve, but I would get you tissues and dote on you during your convalescence. Whatever _your_ sexy but human body had to expunge, I would care for you. In sickness and in health." Hermann leans down to kiss Newt again but pulls back with a frown when Newt doesn't respond. He watches as Newt shakes his head and blinks up at him.

"Did we just get a little bit married?" He asks sounding a bit stunned. 

Hermann takes a moment to consider what just happened and he cannot find it in himself to deny it.

"Just a touch." He says and even after all they've been through tonight, he still feels a trace of apprehension.

"I'm... kind of okay? With that. I think..." Newt looks up at him and Hermann has to kiss the worry off his face. It feels that no matter what they do, they find a way to up the ante and leave them both off kilter once more and Hermann doesn't want that at all.

"Did you want to-"

"Not... Not now? One day? Maybe? I- I like where we are now. I love you and you love me and we're invested and neither of us are leaving and that's... good. That's a good place to be. We can consider this a very long pre-engagement. Pre-pre-engagement. I just- Oh jesus. Too many steps, this is too many steps." Newt doubles over, hands clutching his knees, as his forehead presses into Hermann's sternum and his breath comes in huge, heaving gulps. 

Hermann turns until he's leaning solidly against the wall, murmuring reassurances until he can get Newt into a hug and hold him close, pulling at Newt’s glasses until they come off his face and he can toss them lightly onto the bathmat. He rubs his hand firmly up and down Newt's back, trying to reassure and ground, and presses his lips to the back of Newt’s head.

"We need to go back. We have to go back. I can't think about forever. I can't I c- I'm sorry. We have to go back. I'm sorry. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgodohg-" Newt breaths in short, sharp pants and Hermann can feel tears dampening the skin of his chest. He hugs Newt tighter and strokes more firmly and hopes that Newt doesn't pass out because he won't be able to hold them up.

"You're okay, Newt. We're okay. We're not going anywhere. Focus on your breathing. We're staying in the now. We're good now. We're okay. Listen to me breathing, Newt. Feel me breathing. Focus on that. In... and Out. In... and Out." Hermann forces himself to ignore Newt's hyperventilating so he can focus on giving Newt an anchor to which to attach himself. He continues to breathe in the same slow rhythm and can feel Newt trying to follow suit; he evens out a little for a while but then backslides into a frantic pant, arms clutching around Hermann's middle and fingers digging into his sides. Hermann keeps talking in the same even tone, closing his eyes and forcing himself to stay in the same rhythm - breathe in for four beats, out for four beats.

His arms are burning, and his hip throbs with a renewed vigour, and he'll never tell Newt how much it hurts and how his slow, steady breaths are as much to control his pain and keep the strain out of his voice as they are for Newt. He _aches_. He doesn't know how much time has passed but his body is beyond what he can take. He wants to _stop_ being strong. He's locked his good leg and wedged it between the wall and the floor and it's keeping them both upright as Newt clutches at his torso like a lifeline and he will keep doing it if it helps Newt feel _safe_.

Hermann can feel Newt's breath slowing again and hopes that he's pulling himself out if it, then feels guilty for prioritising his generalised pain over Newt's immediate issue and resolves to put it out of his mind. He wants to let them fall. His arms, long since having halted in their reassuring glide over Newt's back, tighten around Newt's shoulders _._ It _hurts._ He hears Newt murmuring _I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry_ over and over between sharp, shuddering breaths and he wants to stop. He closes his eyes and kisses Newt's hair and hopes they're nearly through it. He's never going to stop.

"You're okay, Newt. We're okay. Come back to me. You're okay." If he had the energy, he'd be rocking Newt slowly from side to side. He wants to. He wants to give Newt everything he's got, more than he's got, but he already is. The parts of his body that ache and burn and scream at him to leave are held back, if not silenced, by the absolute certainty that if he did not love Newt so much, he'd already be gone. "You're with me. I've got you. Can you hear me, Newt? You're going to be okay. Just keep breathing."

He feels Newt stop moving, his body stilling even as light tremors run through the muscles of his back, and then he starts breathing again, slow and deliberate. He can feel Newt's fingers moving against his ribs, grounding himself in the touch. Newt's body relaxes and Hermann hopes that they're through the worst of it.

"Are you with me now?" Hermann asks softly, but he's not moving, not yet.

"Yeah... yeah..." Newt says breathlessly, head resting on Hermann's shoulder and he can feel Newt swallow. "I'm okay. I'm good. I'm okay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He says as he pushes himself up to stand, hands running shakily through his hair. 

Hermann tries not to let his fatigue show. 

"That... that hasn't hap- happened in... in _years_..." Newt says, laughing with shaky bravado. "And now it- it happens over... over a c-conversation about... about m-m-" Newt's breathing picks up and Hermann finds in himself some previously unknown reserve of strength to reach out and place his hand in the centre of Newt's chest.

"We are not having this conversation now," he says firmly. "We are where we are. That conversation may be in the future, but in the future is where it will stay. Until we are _both_ ready."

Newt bites his lip and covers Hermann's hand with both of his own, hugging it to his chest tightly, closing his eyes and breathing deliberately through his nose. "Right. Right, not now. Not-" Newt cuts himself off and stares at Hermann. "Shit, I was leaning all over you. Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Shit, fuck. Fuck. I can't do anything right. Fuck. Do you- do you need anything? Can I help you? Do you-"

"Newton," Hermann says, curling his fingers against Newt's chest and closing his eyes and he can't find it in himself to lie to Newt's face. "I am... sore. H- Help me up?" Newt takes his hand and pulls him upright, one arm wrapped around to guide and support, and then Hermann's leaning against Newt. He can feel tension and light tremors under Newt's skin and sighs, pressing his lips to Newt's temple. "I ache and I hurt and I am tired and tense... and I would do it all again." Newt opens his mouth as though he's about to protest and Hermann shushes him. "I support you. You support me. Together we both stay up."

Newt kisses him so tenderly that he feels his heart might break. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, but it must have been _amazing_ ," Newt says against his lips, hand cupping the back of his head as he kisses him again.

Hermann sighs and relaxes into the touch, feeling himself melt against Newt.

"We should get you in to bed, come on." Newt steps back, keeping a steadying hand on Hermann's arm and looks around for his glasses before swiping them off the floor and settling them on his face. He stands and places a hand on Hermann's shoulder, squeezing for comfort and reaching behind them to unhook Hermann's cane from the door and hand it to him handle first. "Do you need- _want_ help getting there?"

Hermann wraps his fingers around the handle of the cane and presses it against the floor, feeling solid and steady once more. "I'll be okay. Are you coming?"

Newt shakes his head. "No, I- uh. I'm still- I need to calm down a little more. I'll be in shortly. Unless... do you want me to come now? Because I can."

"Come when you're ready," Hermann says with a kiss to the side of Newt's head as he slowly makes his way out of the bathroom and down the hall to the bedroom.

He pulls back the covers, wedges his cane in between the bed and the wall and lets the towel drop to the floor before gingerly sitting. His body grumbles and groans as he lifts his legs up and slides them under the sheets. He lays down and the mattress cups him like a lovers hand, gentle and soft and he can feel the tension draining from his limbs. He pulls the covers over himself and closes his eyes.

He can't sleep.

His body has been pushed beyond its capacity for endurance but his mind is full of Newt and feelings and thoughts and processing everything that's happened in the past few hours and as good as laying down felt his hip still throbs and his arms feel brittle and the ceiling holds no answers. He lays there for more than half an hour before giving in and sitting up. He slides open the drawer in the nightstand and reaches into the back until his fingers wrap around a small pill bottle and draw it out. He doesn't give himself time to think, just opens the bottle, shakes out a pill and swallows it with water from his glass on the nightstand. He lays back down and waits for it to take effect.

Ten minutes later, he's beginning to feel like he's laying on gossamer sheets and his limbs are floating in pools of liquid amber and Newt finally comes in and he smiles. "Missed you," he says lazily and flops his arm across the bed.

"Missed you, too, Herm," Newt says with a soft smile as he pulls his t-shirt off and throws it towards the hamper. "You're not wearing your pajama shirt." He tilts his head to the side and he looks less stressed than he did, but still a little worn around the edges.

"Too much effort." Hermann shrugs, watching as Newt undoes the buttons on his jeans.

"...Are you wearing _anything_?" Newt raises an eyebrow. Hermann shakes his head and smirks as Newt hooks his thumbs into both his jeans and boxers and pushes them all off. "This is okay, right? I mean, you're almost always in your bed uniform..."

"Bed uniform?"

"Your suit is for work. Pajamas are for sleep. I love it, don't get me wrong, it's just... sometimes I just want _you_ beside me." Newt kneels on the side of the bed and looks at Hermann questioningly. Hermann waves Newt in until he puts his glasses on the nightstand, clambers under the sheets and slides in to pillow his head on Hermann's chest with a contented sigh. 

"You smell nice," Hermann says as he presses a kiss to the top of Newt's head, nosing through his hair and inhaling the warm, rich scent of roasted coffee and assorted baked goods. "Tasty."

"You're on the good drugs," Newt says with a huff of laughter then suddenly scrambles up, removing all points of contact with Hermann and holding himself carefully away. "Why didn't you tell me it was a good drugs night?"

"I only decided a little while ago. Lie down, Newt." Hermann's fingers lightly stroke the only place he can reach - the small of Newt's back - as he gestures with his chin for Newt to put his head back on his chest.

"You're sure? I can go sleep on the couch if you need me to; I am totally cool with that," Newt says though he's slowly beginning to lower himself back down, not taking his eyes off Hermann's face.

"It's... muscular... overexertion and tension. You won't hurt me. I want you here. You're warm... Cuddly." Hermann tilts his head with a lopsided smile and Newt's slightly out of focus, but no less riveting.

"Aw, man," Newt sprawls carefully back over Hermann, putting his hand flat on Hermann's chest and resting his chin on it to look up at him with a fond smile. "I can't resist you when you're like this. You're like a cat - usually so regal and controlled, but then with the drugs in your system you're a little loopy and _adorable._ " Newt shakes his head a little and looks guilty. "I am developing _so many_ inappropriate responses to my boyfriend in pain. So many."

"How so?" Hermann raises an eyebrow and his fingers keep stroking Newt's hip because he likes to touch Newt and because he can.

"When you're like this... I know you had to have been really hurting to take the drugs in the first place, but then you're so... affectionate. And cute. And sometimes you let me cuddle you and coddle you. And it can be hard for me to remember that it isn't a _good_ thing." He leans forward and kisses Hermann apologetically. "And when you ask me for help, I know it's got to be really bad and uncomfortable for you to even consider it, but... I get a little giddy... because you _trust_ me." His lips twist and he rubs the pads of his fingers against Hermann's chest and Hermann just keeps watching him, trying to will his brain, light and unfocussed from the absence of pain, to formulate a response. "And you said it was 'too much effort' to put on your PJs but it must have been agony just to get in here if you took the good drugs, but... you're usually only naked in bed during or after sex and my body _knows_ it isn't after. Touching so much of you with so much of _me_ is the _teeniest_ bit pavlovian now." He pauses and looks away. "I should probably put some clothes on."

"Are you aroused?" Hermann murmurs and slides his fingers up to stroke Newt's arse lightly, smiling as he feels a shiver run through Newt's body.

"Just a smidge," Newt says and shifts a little uncomfortably and Hermann realises that when Newt lay back down he pressed his hips into the mattress instead of against Hermann's side. 

"Roll on your side." Hermann directs, fingers sliding along the cleft of Newt's arse and the sound Newt makes as he drops his forehead to Hermann's chest makes him wish he could do more.

"It's okay. I'll put on some boxers and a t-shirt and I'll be fine. Sorry." Newt raises his head and starts to shift away.

"No. Newt..." Hermann says, stretching up a little to kiss Newt's jaw. "I want you to touch yourself. I want to watch you."

Newt looks up and stares at Hermann as though he's torn between making an excuse and taking himself in hand.

"I like seeing you happy," Hermann says with a lazy smile. "I like seeing your pleasure." Hermann pushes his middle finger into the cleft and smiles as Newt shudders.

"It'll make a mess," Newt says, but he's relaxing against Hermann slightly and it's only a matter of time before he relents.

Hermann raises his other arm, heavy and uncoordinated, towards the bedside table and pats around until he reaches the box of tissues. He tries to pull one out and ends up bringing the entire box down to the mattress. He stares at it for a moment and throws a brief, grateful look at Newt for holding it down while he pulls a few out. "We're well equipped for mess." He says, letting his hand fall to his chest with the tissues clutched in his fingers.

"I feel like you're trying to reinforce these bad associations," Newt says as he shifts up onto an elbow, hips shuffling forward until he's pressed against Hermann's side and Hermann can feel Newt's dick dragging wetly up his thigh.

"I feel like watching you get off," Hermann says and then Newt's surging up and kissing him and there's a hand stroking his cheek and neck that could be being put to better use. 

"It's like your brain-mouth filter's turned off," Newt says and he's kissing Hermann again, making soft noises into his mouth as he tries to pull himself away. "You usually only say this kind of stuff when you're really worked up and, oh god, you're not really in control right now, I have to stop."

"Newt, no, don't go. It's a muscle relaxant, not anything... mind-altering. I don't hurt; nothing hurts. I feel... floaty. I want you to feel floaty, too." He lightly strokes Newt's back and looks at him with a distant smile. "Just because I feel uninhibited saying it, doesn't make it a lie... Touch yourself, Newt. I want to watch you come."

Newt stares at him for a moment longer and then he's leaning in to kiss him again, lips soft and wet as he teases Hermann's mouth open. His hand trails down Hermann's neck and over his chest and stomach, fingers light as he ghosts over his hip, past his thigh, and takes himself in hand. Hermann can feel Newt's knuckles brushing against his skin and then Newt's shuffling up the bed. "Gonna move so you can see."

"I can see everything I need right now," Hermann says looking Newt in the eye and Newt stops, arm on the bed above Hermann's shoulder, then he's kissing Hermann again, dick pressing into Hermann's stomach as he tugs himself. Hermann moves his hand down to his stomach and brushes his fingers over the head when he can and Newt slows his movement to let Hermann touch him, panting and swearing into Hermann's mouth. 

"Fucking love it when you touch me," Newt says into Hermann's mouth, fucking slowly into his fist, directing his dick to Hermann's fingers with every slow thrust. "Talk to me, Hermann. Want to hear your voice. Bet you could get me off without even touching me."

"Mmm, I might have to try it one day," Hermann says tilting his head to the side to let Newt kiss his throat. "Sit behind you on the couch and hold your hands, whispering filthy things into your ear until you're writhing? Would you like that?"

"Oh, oh god, yeah, _yeah_." Newt drags his head back up and rises over him staring down, eyes hooded, and he's close enough that Hermann knows he can see him, even without his glasses. Hermann smiles at the sweat beading on his forehead and the way his hair plasters to the red, splotchy skin of his neck. Newt's hips slow as he changes the grip on his dick, switching to a dedicated jerking motion. "What- what would you say to me?"

"I'd come up with something... I'm very smart, you know." Hermann's heart flutters at the sight of Newt laughing even as his features twist in pleasure. "I'd tell you every little detail of what I was going to do to you; how I'd open you up and how it would feel when I fuck you."

"Jesus," Newt gasps, hips jerking forward suddenly. "I'm- I'm pretty sure you could just... just say every dirty word you know and that'd be enough."

"You wouldn't want to hear what it feels like when I take your cock in my mouth? How much I want to taste you?" Even as light as he feels right now, he can't help but feel a frisson of embarrassment at his words, but he can't deny the effect they have on Newt. 

He can feel Newt's hand speed up, knuckles brushing against his stomach as he works himself harder, staring down at Hermann intently with his mouth hanging open and breath coming in short, sharp pants. "You'd come so hard when I fucked you," Hermann says, enunciating each word clearly and sliding his middle finger between Newt's arse cheeks to rub over his hole. 

Newt moans his name desperately and Hermann just manages to move the tissues in time to catch a majority of his come as he curls into Hermann, forehead pressing hard into his cheek as he gasps and works himself through it before slumping against Hermann's side. Hermann's fingers tangle with Newt's on his slowly softening penis until Newt pushes their hands away.

Newt rolls his head to the side until Hermann can see him easily; his cheeks are red and blotchy and he's covered in a light sheen of sweat but he's smiling so wide that the corners of his eyes are crinkling and Hermann has to take a moment to soak it all up.

"Gorgeous," he murmurs and even with the ruddy tone of his skin he can tell Newt's blushing and he wonders how he could have missed something so simple and obvious for so long.

When he regains himself, Newt leans in and kisses Hermann softly. "I love your filthy mouth," he says with a grin as he takes a tissue from the box to wipe himself off. 

"I love your filthy face," Hermann replies and then frowns, head tilting to the side. "I don't think that's what I meant."

"I know what you meant," Newt laughs, fumbling under the covers to pull the tissues out of Hermann's hand and set them on the nightstand, watching as they fall off the edge. "Whoops."

"Remind me that that happened in the morning," Hermann says and curls his arm up against Newt as he settles in by his side. "I'll probably step on it."

"I'll get it when I get up," Newt says, patting Hermann's stomach lightly in reassurance. "You won't have to navigate a spunky minefield."

"Good... good," Hermann says and he's finally drifting, settled by the drugs in his system and the warmth of Newt at his side.

"You should call in tomorrow," Newt says sleepily into his chest. "The weather's going to be just as bad, but there's supposed to be a thaw over the weekend. You could work from here or downstairs or I could walk you back to your apartment."

"I'll see how I feel in the morning," Hermann says brushing a kiss over the crown of Newt's head.

"At least take a cab. I don't want to be worrying about you cracking your skull open on the sidewalk on the way to the bus stop." Newt's fingers curl into Hermann's side as he shifts a little closer.

"Shh, Newt. It hasn't happened and it's not going to. I'm not going anywhere." Hermann raises a hand and pats around until he finds Newt's and can thread their fingers together. "I'm far too comfy to move, anyway."

Newt laughs quietly and presses a kiss into Hermann's sternum, squeezing his hand tightly. "You really are adorable like this."

"You think I'm always adorable," Hermann mumbles as his eyes drift shut. "Sleeping time now."

"Ok, closing my face holes." Newt settles against Hermann's chest with a murmured _love you_ and Hermann's too tired and happy and comfortable to contest Newt's definition of closed. 

And as he drifts off to sleep he can't be sure he doesn't respond in kind.


End file.
